Friday, August 26, 2011

Hey, hey, hey, are you taking it too far? - Hey, non e' che state correndo troppo?

"I refuse to think that at your age you are having romantic thoughts! What do you know about him? This is infatuation, not love!" my mother said every time I met a guy I liked.

Recently, I have found myself in the exact same dynamic, but this time as a mother. Not only there is a girl in William's life but their relationship has become quite intense. Luckily, she is still the same sweet (and cute) girl he was seeing last year. What concerns me is that each time they are together, they take it one step further. Six months ago they kissed for the first time in public (at the Wholefoods meat counter).

One month ago, he was running after her in a swim suite in a park. On his birthday she was offering him a drink. Two weeks ago, she was having fun lifting Willian's shirt, last week she was playing with his diaper. And watch how they were holding hand when they last met at the Cambridge Common playground.


Am I right to worry a little? As a mother, I have to say something, right?

I know what I'll say. "William, tesoro, Naima is the sweetest girl I know but you are too young to get into a serious relationship!" NAA! That sounds like preaching.

How about this? "See William, this time she took one of your cars. If you go too far with her, next time she'll ask you to take the polizia and the ambulanza car, then your trucks!" Naa, I don't like threats!

I'll settle with this: "William, amore, listen, what do you know about her? All you know is that, unlike you, she prefers pink sippy cups and that, unlike you, she would prefer to play with a doll than with a car. Plus don't you think that she is too much into steep slides and overly tall towers for someone not very physical like you? Sweetheart, all I am trying to say is that... ok, have fun but please don't fall in love. I am not ready."

Monday, August 8, 2011

Crappy Days - Giorni di Emme

I have had to deal with a lot of crap recently. And by crap, I don't mean the nonsense I was getting from an old boss with health problems,  I don't mean my latest discoveries on Berlusconi, and I certainly don't mean my mother phoning me twenty times in a 10 minute time slot to force me to help her fix her computer. No. Not this kind of crap. I mean real crap, excrement, feces, stool, number two, or if you prefer, potty training, a nice way to say that I am having to teach my child how to take a s-h-i-t without making a mess. The kind of thing many people prefer to pay someone else to do.

Changing diapers, at least for me, has never been as bad in comparison. Maybe because the poop, at the beginning, did not smell as bad as I expected! Yet initially I was feeling so helpless when a diaper needed changing. I remember asking John to take over on several occasions after getting that damned Elmo on his butt and not in the front. Then what happened? I stayed at home, where most of the crap was taking place and, to my surprise, I became a pro at it. Soon enough I was able to change Tronk in parks, at the back of stores (with no restrooms), in the car, on trains, at the beach, at the pool, and, if I remember well, even in the stalls of a theater in the middle of a formal classic music concert. So yeah, I was dealing with poop but at least I was able to leave the house early in the morning and do interesting things outside the house almost  every day. All I needed was my thermos filled with mashed veggies, a kiwi, a couple of cookies and a couple of spoons for his lunch. Life was easy.

Then, one day, came the fear: how many more times will I have to hear "Sorry, bring William back once he is potty trained." Will I have to pack his diapers with his lunch when he goes to college? I had better start the potty training NOW!

Tronk resting on his potty on a winter day

He was around 14 months when I put him on the toilet for the first time. "Success, he pooped! This potty training isn't so hard!" Tata Pina: "I have never seen a child who cannot talk, nor walk, already going to the toilet the way William does. This guy is special!" All I had to do to make it happen, was to sit him on the baby toilet (just after lunch), sit on the adult toilet in front of him, and make convinving poop sounds. Easy pee-sy! John wasn't so convinced.

As usual, he was spot on! Six months later, even though Tronk spent time with potty trained two-year olds at daycare in Italy, we were back from Italy with a problem. "Cacca no, cacca no! Vai, vai, vai!" (meaning: I don't want to poop in the potty, no, no, no! Let me go, let me go!) Tronk no longer wanted anything to do with the potty. Then a couple of successful attempts followed but only because I was lucky to sit him on the potty at the right time. Then, what happened?

The Poop Face I was longing for
Then, he discovered that it is much more fun to stand up and walk away. I was frustrated. Tata Pina once said: "Get him the pull-ups!"  Apparently, they make diapers especially designed for potty training that can be put on and removed like underwear! They should be used with the accompanying wipes for toddlers that can be thrown in the toilet.  I said:"Ok... I'll get both!"

The pull-ups have had success but not the kind I expected. Tronk is now in love with them and keeps asking me to get new ones all the time - what do you expect from something that has Lightning McQueen printed on it?? - but only in few occasions 
he has managed to pull them up or down, with me doing most of the work. That's as far as we have got to.

Surely, I must be doing something wrong. Should I try sitting him on the pot every 15 minutes, then 20, then after 40? Should I get the Mommy's Helper Cushie Step-Up or the super attractive portable My Carry Potty in addition to the duck toilet that we already have, which is supposed to quack after each success but doesn't because we still haven't managed to put the batteries inside? I have the feeling that the quack sounds cannot do much in situations like these.

"Mamma, fato cacca! "Anamo cacca?" (Mom, I have pooped, are you taking me to the toilet?)
He then gives me his little hand and when I sit him on the toilet, I realize that he has already done it.

"Tronk, hai fatto la pipi'?" (Tronk, have you peed?)
"Pipi'? Gno pipi'!"(peed? no peed!)
After 5 minutes.
"Hai fatto?" (are you done?)
"Gno' fatto!" (not done!)
"Amore, il tuo culetto si trasforma in una ciambella se continui a stare li'. Hai fatto pipi' o no?" (sweetheart, your little butt will turn into a donough if you continue to stay there. Have you peed or not?)
"Mmmm.... gno'!" (mmm, no!)
"Allora che facciamo?" (so, what do we do now?)
He looks down in the potty, like a magician who is trying to make a miracle. He then comes with the usual question.
"Dov'e' pipi'?" (where is it?)

His latest request this morning:
"Mamma, pipi', pipi', pipi'!" (Mom, I have to pee!)
"Va bene, vieni, andiamo in bagno" (Ok, come here, let's go to the toilet)
"No, mamma. Pi-pi' fa treno!" (No, mom. I was making the sound of the train!)

A week ago, Gisella, the babysitter who is covering tata Pina, said: "I think you should leave him alone. Give him some privacy when he is in the toilet!".  Ok.... Result? Potty training souvenirs all over the floor. Gisella: "Great!  You should be happy. That is how they start learning!" 

So, here I am, every morning, first trying to work out what three courses of food will go in my little guy and then... how they will come out. No, tell me, how can I not go insane?

Yesterday I ended up handing a baby wipe to a cashier at Starbucks instead of a $5 bill to pay for an ice latte! To make the situation worse, I then gave a public talk on potty training...

I guess I should have seen it as an omen, but the other morning John found this poop on our roof after the previous night's vicious raccoon fight...

It is only crap. It could have been worse!

If any of you have useful suggestions on this, please post them here before my house becomes a litter box.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Explorations of Gropius's life and works - Esplorando la vita e i lavori di Gropius

Walter Gropius and his family showing us their house

This past weekend we explored the life and works of Walter Gropius, the architect who founded the Bauhaus school. On Saturday, we toured his house in Lincoln. We then found ourselves back there on Sunday, first having a picnic in a pretty park with a cute pond not far from Gropius's house and then ended up swimming in his favorite lake!... Walden Pond.  All in the same weekend.

This happened not because I wanted to use Gropius's patio or his cool back yard shower, two design ideas which, I must confess, I might at some point emulate in our back yard. It happened because my friend Gaia, who works as an architect in Cambridge (MA), and who knows that my father (also an architect) and I admire the work of Frank Lloyd Wright, dropped the idea that I could plan a visit to his house in Lincoln. So on Saturday morning, at last minute, we decided to go there. The following day, on Sunday, we just wanted to take William swimming, without having to stay in the car for two hours, without having to roast on a beach and without having Tronk's lips turn blue in the North Atlantic Ocean.

It is not a coincidence that we ended up by Gropius's house twice this past weekend: the house is located in the woods, in a place that is peaceful, charming, fairy-tailish, with stunning views, refreshing (especially on a hot day of July), almost therapeutic. Plus, it is not far from where we live in Arlington (MA). No wonder we picked the same place twice last weekend! However, the first time I went swimming there (two years ago or so), despite I knew that Walden Pond was the place where Thoreau found his Muse (and published "Walden", a dissertation on his two-year, voluntary isolation in the woods), I failed to experience the magic of the place. All I could think of was that the water was not as clean as in the French Mediterranean sea. And I was worried of putting my feet to rest on mud.

After seeing Gropius's house, eating in the nearby park and experiencing the pond in a different way, I now feel I have seen the place and its magic the way Gropius and his family experienced it seventy years ago. An enchanting experience. During the tour of the house, I could imagine Gropius working in silence in his office, with the door closed, and his wife reading a novel on the couch of her living room, in front of a beautiful sunset.  Everything there was so familiar to me at some point I felt I was visiting an English house that had been interior designed by my father! I couldn't stop thinking that my father would have probably made very similar architecture and design choices if he had ever built a house in New England: original, modern without being cliched, slick, elegant, at the same time a bit industrial, flexible in the usage of the space, but also with privacy, sound-proofing and insulation always in mind. If I remember well, I am almost sure my father's first office in Via Cassini in Turin had similar furniture, including Gropius's industrial looking separating walls made of glass!

Everything went so well this past weekend. Tronk was thrilled to run around the outside of Gropius's house on Saturday. On Sunday, he ate his entire lunch at the park not far from the house and he gained confidence going in and out of the water all by himself. He was so happy he could not stop pointing at the people around him and making comments (luckily, in Italian!):

"Tanti bimbi la', e' bello la'!" (There are many children there, it is nice there)
"Bimbo la', uomo la', anche donna la'" (There is a boy there, a man there, also a woman there)
"Tette grandi la'!'" (there are large breasts there!) [woman with large breasts standing next to Tronk in the water]
As nonno would probably say (when you are a bit older): ''le architetture locali sono tutte da guardare qui" (the local architectures are all worth looking at here).

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Tronk's Second Birthday - Il Secondo Tronkleanno

A posting on Tronk's second birthday has been in my mind for days. Instead, I have been singing "buon compleanno", I have been drinking Aperol Spritz, eating the remaining aperitive snacks and found ways to finish the left over cakes, including "grande tutu'", the huge Lightning McQueen shaped cake brought over by tata Pina, without giving it to Tronk for dinner.

Tronk: "Mangiano torta cena?" (Are we eating cake for dinner tonight?)
Me: "No, torta no. Pappa per cena, non torta!" (People eat a cooked meal for dinner, not cake!)


So, how was Tronk's second birthday? John said it was a rousing success, mainly because of my idea of creating a playground in our back yard with food, drinks, toys,
"tanti tutu'" (and a lot of work on our part!)
John spent five hours grocery shopping (no wonder, purchasing "ham" alone, the kind that you buy in Italy at every grocery store, here takes a special trip to Russo's!). I had to order special cake toppers online to avoid having to pay the bakery store an extra 100 bucks for having a simple car appear on the frosting of the cake, instead of the default light blue flowers. I had to sort out other things that you might think you don't need for a two year old child's birthday but the day before the party you think you do!! (e.g. would you not bother getting citronella bracelets to keep the bugs away from your little guests on your child's special day?). Then there was the preparation of the snacks and a bit of cooking but this is little compared to what John had to do to create Tronk's "PlayLand" (as one of our friends called it). John had to clean everything in the yard with a pressure sprayer, then anchor the play-set onto the ground, build a wooden ladder, replace the nails and other work that only John could explain in details. All I know is that work in the yard did not end until the day of Tronk's birthday (see "to do list" below).

To Do List For Saturday:

  • Set gazebo in the yard with table for snacks
  • Hang personalized banner
  • Finish play-set work, replace the nails on play-set and the wooden pole that is falling down
  • Cut chain of swing that is too long
  • Pump air into balloons and attach balloons on gate, on play-set and on gazebo  
  • Put super glue in joints of fire truck
  • Remove stone from Igloo tent  
  • Blow air in large pool and put 6 bags of balls in it  
  • Remove water from the small pool
  • Clean table and chairs and place them in shaded area. Put children's chairs next to them.
  • Put cars themed table cloth, plates, glasses, forks, tissues and gifts bags on dinner table  
  • Get Ice Bag and put it in the cooler outside
  • Bring aperitivo drinks, glasses, and snacks on table under the gazebo  
  • Add balloons to the string that holds the play-set as a safety measure  
  • Add toys (balls, yoga ball, tent, a tunnel, mini cars they can get into, tricycle, basket ball kit, sand table, cars mat in tent, a couple of big trucks, small cars, drawing table with two white sheets - just in case there are two many artists - and a couple of drawings for older kids to color with crayons)  
  • Get extension cable from the basement and attach stereo with children music next to the tent.  
  • Prepare a nice collection of Italian and English kids' songs on CD. 
  • Bring stereo and CDs bag in the yard
    Bring musical instruments for kids to play with.
This was the last-minute list of things to do and it doesn't include food.
Husband: "No shit, we won't do it again!" 

Me: "Don't worry, if we do this again we'll make things easier on us. I promise!" (to be reviewed next year)

So, John and I are still trying to recover from the work we have done, while Tronk is still trying to recover from his late night partying. Since the day of his birthday,  he has not gone to bed before 9-10 pm, almost every day.  Last night, he was playing in bed for almost half an hour after I put him to bed! What can I do? He tells me that he is two now! You can watch the video here.

He is two indeed. He is growing up lightning fast. Only a year ago he was attached to my breasts, he could not walk and he could only say "mamma" and "dada" (see posting I wrote last year). Now, one year later, not only he can claim the stairs of daddy's play-set, he can also follow me and do other things I ask him to do (but not in the potty), he can run away from me - he did it many times! -, he can eat by himself, go on the big boy swing and, when he has a need for it, he can even challenge your opinions.

Yesterday, at the playground:
"Pizia? No, pizia no. Non e' pizia mamma. Anza! Anza! E' anza!"
Translation:

"Police? No, this is not the police car. This is the ambulance, mom! It's the
ambulance, I know!"
The car, which stopped in front of a house not far from the playground, was indeed an ambulance car, not a police car.

Tronk has an obsession for the ambulance car. So I took him closer to the car. He went:
"Ni no ni no ni no!", all excited. The driver laughed and Tronk received yet another birthday present (see pictures below).


And today, while we were having lunch: [sound of someone mowing the lawn in the background]
"C'e' uomo? Taglia erba uomo? Taglia erba?? [TRONK'S LOST LOOK FOLLOWED BY SILENCE]
Non mangia uomo?"

Translation: 
"Is there a man mowing the lawn? Is he really? Is that man NOT having lunch? Is he not hungry at this time?"
Good question, aha.
 

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Born and raised in the land of kindness - Nato e cresciuto nella terra dei gentlemen

I am thinking of when you'll be older. Not a teenager, more a grown up man, and when they will say to me "Your son William is such a gentleman!". And I will smile, thinking that you could be different if I had raised you in a different country. I have realized that, depending on where you live, the way you deal with others can be very different.


Police car parked on a pedestrian crossing in Italy


In Turin City Center:

"coglione di merda! ma che cazzo fai? Sto pezzo di merda! Terrone! Figlio di mignotta! Ma vaffanculo, stronzo!"
Basically, an interrupted chain of insults to people and to their mothers, which I'd rather not translate.


Total chaos in Central London

In Central London:"
Excuse me?? Sorry? Sorry? Sorry? Can I get out please? Yes, I was talking to you! Excuse me? Hello? F*** in hell!
"

From time to time:
"Get out of my way, arsehole! What? No, you f**k off twat! ". A chain of equally strong (but also hilarious) insults
in cockney which I'd rather not translate.
Cars making way for ducklings in Boston


In Boston City Center:
"Excuse me, are you crossing? Please do! Don't you need to cross? No problems, I'll wait!"
Translation: "Welcome to the land of kindness!".
Although it's not always easy to distinguish whether people are being really kind or "false and courteous" (the appellative given to the people living in Piemonte in Italy), which is the same as "politically correct" for the British, if there are two things I highly admire of the American way of life, kindness is certainly the first one and it's not just appearance. I will talk about the second one (honesty) in another posting.


But... when all you know is people shouting, people pushing as hard as they can to get on the bus instead of you, people sneaking in front of you in the queue at the post office, drivers making sudden turns and almost touching you, when the traffic light  still shows that it is your turn to cross - pregnant, not pregnant, doesn't matter! -, when you are used to living in total chaos, in a city where the average person is angry at 8:00 am and his Facebook status says "bugger off!", you feel over excited (or totally suspicious) when someone, all of a sudden, treats you with kindness.

It happened more than once. I was pushing the stroller towards the corner of a side walk crossing a main street and was wondering whether I should cross the street to go on the other side or whether I should just stay on the same side walk and turn onto the main street. Almost every time, before I was even ready to make a decision of whether to turn or cross the street, a driver would stop by, just before the
crosswalk, and would ask me politely whether I was planning to cross the street.

The first time this happened I felt the driver was taking the piss. So I said with a fairly annoyed tone:
"Why don't *you* go?? It's *my business* whether I decide to cross or not! Ok?" A little confused and with a slightly gracious tone,  the driver said: "I just care about your safety!"
"Oh... Sorry! It's just that I was living in London and before in Italy. They don't bother stopping there and they could care less about your safety!."
"Aha, welcome to the United States!"
Big smile.
I then realized that people here do all kind of nice things to show kindness. 


As soon as they see you with a child, they offer you seats on buses and on trains, they tell you to go to the top of queues in bathrooms and at post offices, they open doors for you even if they don't need to go inside the stores you are going into, they stop to ask you if I you are looking for something when they see you confused, they smile at you (with the wrinkles) and say hello if they see you walking by or past them.

In Italy, I experienced the exact opposite. People kept their
seats for themselves on trains and on buses, not even store owners would open doors for me - At the back of their mind... she decided to have kids, now she should pay! - and they try to steal your place in queues. When I bumped into a neighbor there I heard: (1) "Buongiorno!", meaning "I don't know you but I say hello because I have to be polite" (2) "Ciao, che bel bambino!" Ti assomiglia! Scusa, devo andare. Buona giornata!" meaning:  "We used to go to the same school but we never had anything in common. So, get out of my way bitch!".


How can people be so kind here in the US? Could it just be a facade?

A couple of weeks ago, I was riding my bike with William in the child seat in front of me, for the first time.  I did not want to go fast as I was worried to lose the balance, so I was keeping the gears set for an easy ride. Suddenly, I was overtaken by a fast biker and a loud comment hit me: "Listen, you should use the gears!" I immediately replied: "Don't tell me how to ride my bike! You mind your own business!""  With the same loud but helpful tone, she said: "I can show you how to change the gears, if you like. It is safer for your child!" At the end I felt totally "di cacca", as one would say in Italy, unworthy of all that kindness and all I wanted to do afterwards was to find a place where to hide!

Could it just be a facade, purely based on the fact that the Americans follow rules?

Here is an episode that proves the opposite. William and I the other day were at the library re-consignment store. Suddenly, he got into one of those Little Tikes cars that toddlers like to push backward and forward with their feet. That particular car had a fire alarm! William has an obsession for anything with a sound that has a slight resemblance to "ni no ni no ni no" so he immediately decided to take ownership of the car and started fighting the other kids who wanted to try it. Before I was able to get William to abandon the car, he was already driving it out of the library. After purchasing the item for half of the price they were selling it for, which they gave me to avoid having to take the car away from William, a loud rain storm began. I was on foot, with an empty stroller, William in his car, which he could only drive backward and nothing to protect us from the rain. I was about to push his car (and the stroller) in the rain... when a man in his fourties, John, who had just arrived at the library with his wife,  looked at me and said: "do you want a lift home? We have a large SUV with car seat suitable for a 2 year old. We can take you home with all your stuff!"  In Italy, you would immediately think... what does he want?

Here? No, he's just been kind. 
Before I accepted the offer, John was gone and two minutes later he was outside the library with the trunk of his SUV car open. Given that my house is only three blocks away from the library and that John's wife was also insisting that I accepted the offer, I said "yes but William and I can wait until you are done at the library".  "No, don't worry, it's all set!", his wife said, and in minutes William and I were home, with his car still making ni no ni no sounds and without catching a single drop of water.



William in his perfectly dry car after the rain storm

"That was very kind of you!"
"No problems. Any time!"


I think I heard these same exact words a week ago or so. Now I remember. Someone knocked on my door to ask me if I had forgotten my handbag (with money, credit cards and everything else) outside, next to the stroller. Can you believe it?

Same reply:
"No problems. Any time!"


I am still searching for the software that makes all this kindness happen here in the Boston area. Do you know what it's called?

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Italy has boosted William's vocabulary and self-confidence - In Italia a William e' venuta la lingua lunga

William making a phone call in Diano Marina
Last year, in order to better teach William Italian and about Italian culture, John and I made an important decision. We decided to take William to Italy for one month per year. This may seem like a huge amount of time. In reality, when you spend half of it making plans with your parents and a third of it replacing the stroller that got broken during the trip, four weeks is just a tease! We have come to this decision because I used to spend five to six weeks in France every year as a child - that way I learned French and about French culture more than the kids who were taking French in school. If you learned some French at school, you probably learned to asked a simple question this way: "Est-Ce Que [PAUSE] tu [PAUSE] aimes [PAUSE] manger  [PAUSE] pizza?" and not this way: "t'aimes les pizzas toi?". The latter, is the way French people speak!

During the month we were in Italy, John worked most of the time while I tried to take William to day care every day so that he would have to deal with Italian teachers, Italian kids, language and culture.


William celebrating an Italian kid's birthday. Cake made of focaccia!

William drawing at  at the Mary Poppins center in Turin, Italy

Art work William made at the Mary Poppins center in Turin, Italy
Actually, doing this served well its purpose. I don't know if it was the different physical location, the amount of  TV he watched, the Italian kids he was playing with, all the nicotine and caffeine in the air or the terrible 2s approaching but, while we were there, his vocabulary most probably doubled and his confidence boosted:
 
"vai! dai! dimmi, dammi, mangia, mare, yourt, cane, gatto, cappello, faccia, naso, occhi, lanza (meaning ambulanza), pizi'a, bandane (instead of banana), his first three-syllable word, and also expressions such as dov'e'? (where is it?), guarda palla (look at the ball)!" and so on.
 
Together with an explosion of Italian words, I was hit by a stubborn and pissed off kid which at times I struggled to recognize:

When the bus driver was waiting for the traffic light to change, William would go:
"vai! vai! a vai? a vai?" ("go!, go! just go! just go!") [EVERYONE LAUGHED IN THE BUS]

When I was about to start feeding him but could not find his favorite car, he would scream:
"no, pappa no! pappa no, no, no!" (no, food no! food no, no, no!)
"dammi cento! cento?...
noooooo, dammi cento!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
 
(give me the cento car! cento car? you are not giving it to me? give it to me !!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

At times, he was cranky and inconsolable.  He would ask for "pizi'a", the polizia car, which he had previously hidden, say under the bed. Then if only I was trying to offer him another car, he would explode in rage! It had to be that car. 


In Italy, the day care teacher I liked (the one who was not drinking 10 coffee cups per day and who was not threatening the kids to call the police if they were not behaving) found William sweet but also lazy, capricious and a bit too
arrogant and independent (hopefully this is a good thing). She said that at times he was wondering off the room to do his own things regardless of the class activities she was running in that moment. On the positive side, in Italy the rebel learned to get on cars and on chairs all by himself, to wait in a queue with other kids in the bathroom to get his diaper changed, to eat and drink by himself and to elegantly sit on an adult chair, while waiting for dinner to be served. On the negative side, my toilet training there went out of the window! We sort of just stop doing it. His fault, my fault, our fault? I don't know but now as soon as I say the word "toilet", William runs away and goes "cacca no, cacca no, no, no!" followed by rage.

In Italy his difficult behavior forced us to go back to using the pacifier all day long, just like when he was two months old, until a week ago, when our old William decided to come back. Luckily, the sweet boy came back but the Italian words stayed! He replaced "bandane" with "banana", "yourt" with "yoghurt" and more expressions flourished:

"Anche mamma pappa?" (mamma is eating too?)
"Viene anche zia?" (is aunt coming too?)
"C'e' tu-tu la'?" (is the car over there?) -  his biggest long-lasting obsession
"Aniamo bimbi oggi?" (are we going to see the kids today?) Aniamo bimbi lena?(are you taking me to the swing where the kids are?)  - his new obsession
"Poi aniamo daddy?" (are we going to see daddy later on?)
"Ba-Bye bimbi!" - when I go to get myself a coffee
"Bene pappa"
"Thank you mamma!"
"Sorry daddy"

Apart from the poop thing, I am happy my old William is back, that he is learning English again, as well as to be polite and respectful towards others and to trust that in everything in life there is bad but also good and that, overall, it is better to expect good. Now when the police car arrives, the children at the playground no longer go "Scappa! Scappa!" (Run! Run!), but "Urra'!" It is nice to be back.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

My mom's cooking advice - Segreti di cucina della mia mamma

When you live in a country where the average mom who uses a kitchen of the size of a mansion and a spoon which costs more than my entire kitchen utensil set,  feeds her children hot dog and microwaved vegetables that taste like cardboard, if not pieces of onions or pickles from her turkey sandwich, you wonder what happened to their mothers and to the mothers of their mothers and to the mothers of the mothers of their mothers. Were they all attacked by zombies in the kitchen, fathers included?? Or has their working life sucked all the fun out of their meals? At least the English are constantly joking about how bad is English food and they don't pay a 20% tip at their restaurants. Can someone explain to me why here in the US everyone is happy with the American food?

I always thought every other mom (or father, if not the mother) was as good as mine in the kitchen but I was wrong (my previous posting is all about this). The thing is... I
never really watched my mother cooking, nor I asked her for advice. For years I took her cooking for granted and went to seek the excitement of ethnic food. Then, unlike my friends who stayed in Italy close to their mothers,  I quickly had to adopt the London "do it quickly" cooking style, which means that you put chilli in almost everything you cook to hide the taste. Now that I live so much farther away from Italy and that I try to reproduce my mother's dishes at home to feed William on a daily basis, I have realized that my mother has passed to me recipes worth gold. But how do I cook her dishes exactly the way she does?


William going to steal secrets in my mother's kitchen

While I was in Italy, I  asked my mother (and carefully observed) what she really does when she is in the kitchen. Below are some of the answers I got from her in this occasion together with the precious knowledge she passed to me via Skype in the last year or so.


Use onions, not garlic, unless you are cooking fish
Use Barilla spaghetti and fresh juicy tomatoes
What ingredients do you need for a simple pasta dish, say for 4 people?
Mom: "Vegetable oil (e.g. better if arachides oil), half an onion medium size, juicy plum tomatoes in can or, even better, juicy fresh tomatoes and spaghetti or other type of pasta. The Barilla and De Cecco brands are good. For a simple pasta sauce I cut the onion very thin, so I don't have to remove the pieces afterwards, and brown it in oil. This is what I call  "soffritto". Garlic? Oh nooo, I don't use garlic for making pasta sauce. Basil? You can add it at the end when the dish is almost ready. It is not necessary though"

So when do you use garlic?
Mom: "I use one or two cloves of garlic when I brown fish or when I saute vegetables such as spinach and zucchini in oil"
Me: "Do you remove the pieces of garlic at the end of the cooking?"
Mom: "Yes, I don't want to keep eating garlic all day long!"

How do you obtain a creamy sugo?
Mom: "I remove the skin and the seeds from the tomatoes (or plums in the can), then I add the resulting sauce (called "passata") to the thin slices of onions browned in oil (called "soffritto") and cook it with the lid on for about 15 minutes"

How do you remove the bits of skin of the tomatoes in the plums that come from the can?
Mom: "I use a fork to get the juice out of the plums and remove the bits that come out while I am doing that before adding the sauce to the soffritto"

How do you eliminate the sour taste of the tomatoes in the sauce?
Mom: "I add few pinches of salt and half a tea spoon of sugar, then I cook the sauce with the lid for at least 15 minutes"

Can you add vegetables, say zucchini, or chicken to the pasta sauce or is it something that only foreigners do?
Mom: "Chicken, certainly not. If you want to add vegetables, carrots and zucchini for instance, you brown them in the soffritto with the thin slices of onions. Then, when you see that the hard vegetables (carrots) are cooked, you add the tomatoes"

What do you do to avoid that the pasta sauce dries up?
Mom: "I add a mestolo (large soup spoon) of salty water from the pasta or from the boiled vegetables. By doing that, the sauce will get creamy"

What do you do to avoid that risotto dries up?
Mom: "I add a mestolo (large soup spoon) of boiled water or vegetable broth, each time I see that it is drying up"

How do you prepare chicken and vegetable broth?
Mom: "To make chicken broth, I boil the chicken in water with an onion, a potato, two carrots, sage, thyme and a pinch of salt. To make vegetable broth, I boil an onion, carrots, zucchini, potatoes (and whatever I want to add ) with sage, thyme and a pinch of salt. Otherwise, I add stock to boiling water in a glass and melt the stock to produce broth by using a fork.". 

How do you decide whether you should add vegetable, chicken or beef stock?
Mom: "I usually add vegetable broth to risottos and to soups. I add beef broth to the other dishes. This is what I do but there are no hard rules. I often use the water from boiled vegetables or from boiled chicken. Enrica, tutto fa brodo! (everything makes broth)!"

In which cases do you keep the lid on the saucepan when you are cooking?
Mom: "What a question! The only time when I don't keep the lid on on a pan is when I have to fry and when I let the wine, water or broth evaporate. Usually, you should keep the lid on when you are cooking!"

At what stage of the cooking do you usually add salt?
Mom: "It depends on what I am cooking but as a general rule I would say... just before I am happy that water is released into the mix but I always make things cook first. If I breadcrumb chicken for instance, I add salt to the chicken at the end, once the chicken is cooked.  Oh nooo, I don't add any salt or other spices during the preparation of the food!"

How many minutes do you leave the veggies in the pressure cooker once you have reached the pressure point?
Mom: "I cook vegetables such as carrots, potatoes and beans for about 5 minutes. If I leave them less than 5 minutes they are not cooked enough"

What's the quickest way for cooking a chicken turkey or pork roll?
Mom: "You can brown the meat in a soffritto with thin slices of onion, add salt, pepper, rosemary and herbs de provence. Then you add white wine - remember to remove the lid to let the wine evaporate - then you add the vegetables (carrots and potatoes or peas - either not both). You cover with the lid and cook the whole thing for half an hour"

How do I make William eat vegetables?
Mom: "Boil chopped zucchini, carrots, potatoes, squash, tomatoes and pinto beans together with finely chopped onion, garlic and parsley in salty vegetable broth for an hour. Then put the resulting minestrone in a food processor to make a passato di verdura. Most children eat this!
Alternatively, you can cook vegetables like spinach, carrots and mushroom  "in umido" (browned in olive oil and garlic, with added salt, pepper and a trito of parlsely at the end). Otherwise, you can steam them and then add salt and olive oil to them"

How do I make William eat fish?
Mom: "Cod? Boil the whole fish with head and tail in water with lemon and parsley. Then, serve it with olive oil, salt and lemon juice on it .Alternatively, you can steam a sole and add crushed parsley, olive oil, salt and lemon juice to it at the end. If you don't mind the extra fat, you can cook it in butter, then add salt, lemon juice and parsley towards the end of the cooking "

What do I cook when William has an upset stomach?
Mom: "When you were not well, I was always giving you white rice with olive oil, salt and parmesan,  and boiled chicken with veggies as a second course. Can you remember?"

What food can I prepare when I don't have time to cook?
Mom: "the simplest pasta dish takes at least 20-30 minutes cooking time.  
Me: "Can you think of something quicker than that?"
Mom: "Mmm, no. Less than half an hour? All I can think of is an omelette, or something cooked the day before, which only needs heating! Otherwise, you can prepare cold antipasti such as prosciutto e melone or a salad made of tomatoes and mozzarella with salt, olive oil and oregano, which doesn't take long to make".

What do you use the microwave for?
Mom: "I only use it for defrosting and for heating a previously cooked meal. Nothing else."

How about sandwiches?
Mom: "Is this what you are going to give your poor husband? I hope not!"
Me: "But mom, that is what he likes!"
Mom:"I don't believe it. He might be saying that to be nice to you. I will ask him!"

What advice can you give a mom who wants to learn to cook?
Mom:"You don't need to be a chef to cook but someone who likes food. You need to practice with the resources that are available locally and  decide for yourself what needs doing to cook what you like".

Grazie mamma and happy cooking everyone!